


Fight Me

by goddesswan



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-10-01 08:04:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10184666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddesswan/pseuds/goddesswan
Summary: From the Tumblr post.my nurse just came in to check my vitals and I told him to fight me from beneath a mountain pillows. He just moved my pillows and told me maybe later.he just came in again and when I tried to tell him to fight me again I started coughing and I couldn’t breathe and then he just smiled and told he won’t fight me because he knows I’d winApparently I seduced him with my drool and terrible lungs because he wrote his number on a coffee from the giftshop under “fight me?”





	

Emma Swan groggily opened her eyes and surveyed her surroundings. Squinting in the bright LED lighting that she just knew would be unflattering, she inspected the room — stark white walls, polystyrene tiled ceiling, and obnoxious beeping machinery to the side of her head — and concluded that she was in a hospital.  Glancing down at herself, outfitted in a cotton gown, a plastic band clasped around her wrist, confirmed it.  
  
“Hello, Miss Swan.”  
  
Emma flopped her head back onto her pillow and squinted warily up at the voice that just entered the room. She kind of wished she hadn’t because wow, did it belong to a gorgeous man. He stood casually in the doorway, shoulder propped against the frame, looking unfairly attractive in a set of black nurse scrubs. His hair was a deep brown tousled mess and his eyes strikingly blue.  
  
“How are you feeling, lass?” he inquired with a lilting, English accent.  
  
Now that he mentioned it, she noticed that her head was foggy, her throat hurt, and she was very nauseous. But this strange, foreign man did not deserve to know this.  
  
“Who are you?” she asked suspiciously, ignoring his question.

“My name is Killian Jones, love,” he answered, stepping away from the door with a soft smile on his face, tucking his arm behind his back and leaning forward in a half bow as if he was disclosing some secret information. “I’m your nurse.”

“Well, Mr. Nurse, I’m not your love. My name is Emma,” she huffed.  
  
“Apologies, Emma. I’ll try not to make the same mistake again. But only if you promise to do me the same courtesy and call me by my name, Killian.” And the damn bastard was still smiling.  
  
“What do you want?”  
  
“Emma, you’ve just awoken from the anesthesia you were put under while you had surgery,” he explained, his demeanor changing slightly, less charming and more serious. “Nothing major but you were brought in with a case of appendicitis. The doctor went in and removed the little bugger. It put up a bit of a fight and took a tad longer to find than what is usual. But it was removed with no complications and you were sewn up nicely. Unfortunately, due to the placement, the incision needed to find it was larger than normal. Dr. Wale almost had to start cutting vertically but he found the thing in the nick of time so at least you don’t have to worry about and L-shaped scar.” He gave her a flirty wink but then his expression morphed into one of concern.  
  
“Are you feeling alright, Swan?”

Actually, she wasn’t. That pesky nausea was getting worse. And right as she opened her mouth to tell him so, he dove his arm under her face, an oddly shaped pan grasped in his hand.  Emma then proceeded to vomit into it, profusely.  
  
“It’s ok,” he reassured her. “It’s just a reaction from the anesthetic.” With his free hand, he pushed the hair away from her face and held it at her neck. She could feel the cool metal of a ring against her flushed skin.    
  
_No_ , she wanted to tell him. It was _not_ ok. But she couldn’t because she was still dry heaving into the pan.  
  
“Can we get some ice chips in here?” he called while she pulled her head back and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, grimacing at the foul taste of bile.  
  
“Isn’t that what people pee in?” she questioned, eyeing the pink plastic wearily. “It looks like a giant, Barbie toilet bowl.”  
  
“That is it’s intended use, yes. But it’ll do in a pinch when someone’s stomach decides to revolt.”  
  
He then began to elaborate on why she vomited.  It’s a perfectly normal reaction. The anesthetic affects the brain in some way. It’s more common in women and younger people.  
  
“Ice chips?” she interrupted him.  
  
“You’re not allowed to drink liquids just yet. So, we’re going to give you some ice to rinse out your mouth and soothe your throat,” he answered.  
  
“What if I just want water?” she asked as he turned to grab a paper cup from the hand of another nurse  
  
“Unfortunately, that’s not an option for now.”  
  
He went to offer her the cup, but she grabbed a pillow in each hand and smashed them on her face. “Then what are my options?” she mumbled from beneath her pillow mound.  
  
“Ice or nothing,” he stated and although she couldn’t see his face, she could feel the smugness rolling off of him.  
  
“Get out,” she grumbled.  
  
“Beg your pardon?” he implored.  
  
“Leave me alone,” she growled, smooshing the pillows tighter.  
  
“Ok, Swan,” he appealed. And she could hear him setting the cup down on the tray next to her bed. “But I still have to check your vitals.”  
  
“Fight me,” she groused.  
  
At first, there was no response and she assumed that it had worked. Maybe she just didn’t hear him walk out of the room. He seemed like the type of asshole that made no sound when he walked.  But then she felt a warm hand grabbing each of her own and tugging the pillows off her face.  
  
“Maybe later,” he proposed with a wink and a smirk. And his face was so close and his eyes were so blue and they were twinkling so stupidly.  And what the fuck even were those collarbones? Her mind got a little foggier. She couldn’t handle the intensity so she grunted and rolled onto her side, letting him do what he needed to but ignoring him.  
  
“All finished!” he exclaimed after a few minutes and began to walk away.   Halfway across the room, he stopped short as if suddenly realizing something. “Your stitches should be fine for now but I will have to stop by again later to check on them. Shall I let your family in now?  
  
“Yes,” she snapped and moved her hand down her stomach to investigate her bandage, feeling the soft cotton and smooth tape beneath her fingers.  
  
“Hey!” she shouted as he strolled out of the room and her family trampled in. “Why am I not wearing any underwear?”  
  
–  
  
After Henry, David and Mary Margaret reassured themselves that she was, in fact, alive and wasn’t about to die anytime soon, they allowed her to fall back asleep. She woke a few hours later with a hazy recollection of her encounter with the nurse.  All she could really remember was that he had really nice eyes and a dumb accent. Maybe it had all been a dream.  
  
“How are you feeling, mom?”  
  
She turned her head to Henry, who was sitting beside her bed with his favorite storybook in his lap.  
  
“I’m fine, bud” she reached her arm out and he tucked his small hand into her own. “Where’s David and Mary Margaret.”  
  
“They went down to the cafeteria to get some food. Do you think you’re going to have a cool scar?” he asked eagerly. Instantly she felt better. Leave it up to her son to only be concerned with a _cool scar_.  
  
“Well, I’m assuming so,” she said indulgently, giving him a soft grin.  
  
“Actually lad, your mother will have a _very_ cool scar.”  
  
Emma whipped her head towards the intruder and discovered that no, she hadn’t dreamt up the ridiculously handsome nurse and yes, his eyes really were that blue.  
  
“Hello again, lass,” he said with one side of his mouth quirked up. “Are you feeling better now that you’ve rested?”  
  
“You mean besides the pain in my stomach?” she snapped.  
  
“I was speaking of the effects of the anesthetic but please describe the pain you’re feeling,” and the guy actually sounded sarcastic. Who the hell did he think he was? Weren’t nurses supposed to be kind and supportive?  
  
“It feels like I’ve been cut open and sewn back together, is that a good enough description for you?”  
  
“Well, unfortunately, the pain is to be expected. But I can up the dosage of your meds a little if you would like.” Suddenly he was back being the pleasant caretaker. She really wished the man would pick a personality and stick to it.  
  
“I guess that would help,” she said grudgingly, crossing her arms like a child.  
  
“For both our sakes, I hope it does,” he quipped, moving to the IV drip beside her and adjusted the bag.  
  
“I need to check your incision now,” he said smoothly. He pulled the blanket off and lifted her hospital gown. Thankfully, Mary Margaret had given her underwear to slip into earlier so she wasn’t completely exposed. He leaned forward and gently pulled the tape off the dressing, taking care not to further irritate her skin. Delicately, he ran his middle and index fingers around the wound, occasionally pressing down softly. She tried to repress a shiver at the feeling of his smooth fingers on her skin. After giving her stitches a final squint, he pulled back to grab a replacement bandage. “Everything seems to be in great shape. While I’m here, Swan, we’re going to have to get you standing.”  
  
“I’d rather not.”  
  
“I understand,” he replied, not sounding like he understood one bit. “But it’s part of the recovery process and we need to do it as soon as possible.”  
  
He moved to the left side of the bed and tucked his left arm around her waist, grasping her hip gently, and pulled her right hand into his own. Slowly, he pushed her hip and turned her so that she was sitting upwards with her feet dangling off the side of the bed.  
  
“How are you doing?” he questioned softly, his warm breath fanning across her cheek and causing her to shiver. He must have been chewing gum or sucking on a mint recently because his breath smelled ridiculously good.  
  
“Just peachy,” she snarled, trying to hide her reaction to his closeness. Up close she realized that his stubble wasn’t entirely brown and actually had hints of ginger.  
  
The corners of his mouth turned up slightly as he leaned back slightly to size her up. Seeming content with her position, he nodded. He turned his head to her son and offered him a grin.  
  
“Henry, why don’t you come help me with this next part?” he requested of her son, who had been sitting quietly and patiently while he examined her.  
  
“Me?” the boy gasped, excitedly. “Of course!” He jumped out of his seat and rushed over to Emma’s side.  
  
“Ok, lad. I want you to grab your mother’s right hand,” Killian instructed calmly, gesturing to the hand he had just dropped. “And when I say go, I want you to pull with me. Do you think you can do that?”  
  
“Yes!” he exclaimed, turning his wide eyes to Emma. “Mom, I’m going to help you stand!”  
  
Emma smiled warmly at him and then turned her grin to Killian, silently thanking him for including her son.

“Is my ass going to be hanging out when I stand up?”

He gave a startled laugh. “No, the hospital gowns are new,” he assured her. “They wrap around like an oversized robe so that they still offer easy access but give patients more privacy.”

“Good,” she conceded.

“Alright, here we go.” And then they were both hauling her up, Killian by his arm around her waist and Henry by her hand.  
  
“Now we need to move,” he stated.  
  
“I think standing is enough for now,” she protested, wincing at the new pain brought on by the pressure of standing.  
  
“Standing is only half the battle, you need to walk some,” he cajoled, tugging her hip slightly.  
  
“Fight me.”  
  
“Really, Swan?” he snorted, one of his brows lifting. “This again?”  
  
He attempted to maneuver her again, this time a little more forcefully.  
  
“ _Fight me_.”  
  
“I’m not going to fight you,” he chided.  
  
“Why not? Don’t wimp out just because I’m a girl. I’m a bail bonds person. I could kick your ass-”  
  
“My mom has handcuffs!” Henry chimed in.  
  
Emma took a step forward, not wanting to appease him but needing to prove that she could handle it. She gasped loudly and immediately doubled over in pain.  
  
“While I believe I would greatly enjoy the use of your handcuffs, my unwillingness to fight you is not because I’m afraid of harming you,” he confessed, rubbing her back soothingly and giving her a dazzling grin. “On the contrary actually. I’d rather not fight you because I know you’d win.”  
  
She rolled her eyes and was about to respond with a sarcastic retort when her brother and sister-in-law returned, effectively ruining the moment.  
  
“Emma! Look at you! You’re out of bed!” Mary Margaret cheered.

“She’s doing wonderful,” Killian said, gazing at her softly. “I believe she’ll recover even faster than we expected.”  
  
After walking around the room a couple of times,  with the encouragement of her family, and using the restroom with the help of Mary Margaret, Killian returned her to her bed.

“That’s all for today, Swan,” he announced. “I’ll be back again tomorrow morning. If you need anything before then, press this button here and someone will be with you as soon as possible.  
  
–  
  
For four whole days, Emma was stuck in that damn hospital room. Four whole days of increasingly common check-ins and incessant flirting from her nurse. The average hospital stay after an appendectomy was one night but because of the damn placement of her appendix, she had to be there longer. With nothing to eat and only the IV fluids to keep her nourished. The fact that she had yet to pass gas — showing signs of normal, undisturbed bowels — being the one thing keeping her from leaving.

After the first day, David and Mary Margaret, both having jobs to return to, left and took Henry with them. “He shouldn’t miss any school,” she told them. They would stop by in the evenings but that was the only time she had visitors other than Killian.

That didn’t mean she lacked company, though. Killian made sure to stop by as often as possible, checking her vitals, seeing if she needed anything, walking her around, and even just wanting to talk.  At first, it was annoying and she just wanted to be left in peace to watch the crappy daytime programs on the tiny hospital television. But after a while, she came to enjoy his goofy remarks and sense of humor.

On the third night, it happened. She was given actual food and told that as long as everything settled nicely, she would be allowed to leave the next day.

“Can’t wait to get out of here, huh Swan?” he asked her smirking. And she simply rolled her eyes at him.  
  
It was 1:30 in the afternoon and she hadn’t seen Killian all day. Right as she was about to get up and hunt someone down for her dismissal papers, a nurse walked into her room. It was the same nurse that handed Killian her ice the first day. She had long red hair and wore unfamiliar, green scrubs.  
  
“Where’s nurse Jones?” she questioned. He had been the nurse to bother her the entire time she was there. She hadn’t spoken a single word to anyone other than him and Dr. Whale.  
  
“He’s overseeing another patient at the moment. But he informed me that you were impatient to get out of here and instructed me to give you these,” she said kindly, tucking a wavy strand of copper hair behind her ear, with the papers still grasped in her hand. She set down the papers on the tray beside her and then pulled what appeared to be a paper coffee cup from behind her back. “I was also commanded to give you this.”  
  
Emma reached out her hand slowly and took the cup from the nurse.  
  
“All you have to do is sign those forms and turn them into the desk at the end of the hallway and you’re free to go. Your brother is waiting with a wheelchair to deliver you to his car,” she explained and then promptly left the room.  
  
Confused, Emma took a sip from the cup and was shocked to find that it wasn’t coffee but warm hot chocolate. And even further surprised at the taste of cinnamon.  
  
Slightly dazed, she signed her name along all the required lines and walked to the nurse’s desk.  She didn’t understand why at this exact moment he was unavailable.  Logically, she knew that this was a hospital and he was a nurse and she wasn’t his only patient. But with the amount of time he spent in her room, she found it odd that suddenly he couldn’t spare even just a moment the entire morning to say goodbye.

As David pushed her through the hospital, she chided herself for being so silly. Maybe the flirtation had all been in her head. Or more likely that was just the type of person he was and she shouldn’t have taken it so personally. Of course, he had to be nice to her. It was his job. And really they had only known each other for a few days. He didn’t need to say bye. He had probably come into contact with hundreds of patients that he never spoke to again so why would she be any different?  
  
It wasn’t until she was settled in the passenger seat of David’s truck, that she realized that something was written underneath the sleeve of the cup. In curving, elegant script were the words “fight me?” followed by a phone number.

Maybe she wasn’t so silly after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I based a little bit of this off my own experiences with appendicitis. Not the threatening a cute nurse part but the complications and having to spend many days in the hospital. I was also very confused upon waking up with no underwear.


End file.
